Veneficus Amicus
by Nu Rho
Summary: One little-or not so little-accident occurs and leads to happenings that no one at Hogwarts would have expected. Where has Harry disapeared to and what in Merlin's name is a spark snake? HPDM (On hiatus, hopefully not for long)
1. Chapter 1

**The Lost End**

By Nu Rho

The sun was low, at the moment hovering placidly beyond the haze of grey clouds that darkened the mid-afternoon sky. It was a little humid out, being just mid-way through the summer holidays, and just lousy enough, in common opinion, to stay indoors.

There was only one person here, lying on his back on the lawn, under the clouds, hands folded beneath his head. The painful silence of the afternoon seemed not to bother him. Nor did the cold breeze that seemed to brush away the humidity every time it danced over the damp grass and softly ruffled the boy's dark hair and baggy t-shirt, raising goose bumps up his arms. He sighed inwardly, filling his senses with the scent of the grass and the promise of on-coming showers. The breeze was soon accompanied by small, beady drops of rain, descending slow and scarce across the yard and street. Emerald green eyes flickered open at the chilled splash of a raindrop breaking on the boy's forehead, just above the rim of his glasses, and right next to a scar that reflected what would accompany the night's weather.

The boy blinked as another bead of rain landed near his right eye and rolled down his cheek, soon accompanied by a rain-drop of another kind, one that had leaked from one of the small pools of salty water gathering over those beautiful, vivid emeralds.

- - - - -

The rain drummed gently against the window, streams of water weaving themselves down the glass, illuminated by the glow of a candle on the dry side of the pane. A pair of bored grey eyes gazed out at the similarly shaded clouds and the only sound in the dark room was the echo of a sigh. Letting his gaze flicker towards a small, dark spot in the sky, the owner of the grey eyes sighed again and slumped heavily on the sill, chin resting lazily in his hand. He watched the dot in the sly grow larger and could make out the rhythmic flapping of wings on either side of it. The closer the bird flew, the more he noticed the brilliant red shimmer of its feathers, which seemed to reflect the sunlight that wasn't there.

The boy stepped back from the window, grasping the clasp and pulling it open. There was the loud 'swoosh' of feather slicing through air and a furry of beating wings as the large bird balanced itself gracefully on a tall perch across the room, next to a haughty horned owl who hooted in an aggravated fashion, having been woken up from his mid-afternoon nap. The grey-eyes boy shut the window again and then turned and crossed the room to where the red bird sat ignoring the owl and fluttering droplets of water from his feathers.

"'Evening, Fawks," the boy drawled, his boredom obviously apparent in his smooth voice.

The phoenix nodded a greeting and a soft 'coo' sang from his slender beak. Holding his leg out towards the boy, Fawks turned his head and seemed to fall into a pleasant conversation with the owl beside him. The young wizard unlaced the letter from Fawks's ankle and unrolled it curiously. What could the old man want barely mid-way through the summer? His eyes skimmed across the elegant scrawl twice, another sigh escaping through his breath.

"Alright, Fawks," he muttered, grabbing a piece of scroll off a large mahogany desk against the wall to his left and snatching a black quill from a cup, dipping it in a deep green ink. He scribbled on the parchment as he spoke. "Could you bring this back to the old man for me?" Fawks cooed his consent and leaned into the fingers that came up to scratch the side of his neck, just beneath his jaw. With his other hand, the young wizard secured his return letter to the ties on Fawks's leg before crossing the room and again opening the window for the phoenix.

- - - - -

The old wizard sat at his desk, sorting out the coming year's student schedules, blue eyes twinkling as that almost always did, behind half-moon glasses. He lifted his head as a familiar friend swooped into his office, returning from an errand the bird had been willing to complete for him. The wizard stroked the bird's head and unrolled the letter that had returned with him.

_Professor Dumbledore--_

_I'll leave right now and check in by sundown tonight. _

_You owe me for this one._

_--D.M._

The old wizard's eyes twinkled a little bit brighter and he released a small chuckle. He smiled at his bird and in his old, tired, but somehow forever youthful voice, he mused, "Those boys will cause me trouble yet..."

- - - - -

The boy in the grass woke up with a start when a rather large foot landed quite roughly right in his gut. He quickly scrambled a few feet away and coughed, then sucked in a small gasp.

"Damn it, Dudley, I was resting!" He shouted angrily. Leave it to his fat, spoiled cousin to ruin a well-deserved nap. And, well... Leave it to Dudley to ruin anything good. The young wizard decided to voice this. "Why do you always have to be such a rude, incompetent beast?"

Dudley frowned at his cousin and paused, his chin doubling with the expression. He, in fact, did not know what 'incompetent' meant. "I am not a beast! _You're_ the beast, _Harry!_" He accused, sticking to what he understood.

Harry rolled his eyes and straightened his glasses. "Of course, Dudley, how could I--"However, he was cut off by another voice from behind him.

"Very well put, yes. A beast, Potter? Tsk tsk, even you're bloody muggle here can see that! Too bad you're 'friends' can't. Too bad for _them_, that is..."

Harry froze. No way... That voice? What in Merlin's name was _that_ voice doing _here??_

He quickly glanced around to make sure he was indeed still at number four Privet Drive. The young Gryffindor spun awkwardly, still crouched on the ground, hoping to all the powers that his ears had deceived him and the person behind him was not who he thought it was.

"M... _Malfoy??_" Damn.

Draco raised both his eyebrows. "Surprised, Potter? Well, good news! I'm here to check up on you!" Mock excitement dripped from his words, but his expression proved otherwise, the familiar smirk falling naturally into place.

"C-check up on me??" Harry stammered and Draco rolled his eyes again.

"Really, Potter, speak properly. And get up already; you look like you got attacked by the giant squid." Draco sneered distastefully at the other boy's soaked clothing, thankful that the rain had at least stopped enough to keep himself dry for the moment.

The Gryffindor blinked up at Draco another moment, then dropped his head into his hands and moaned. He heard the Slytherin sigh before he was hauled to his feet, and looked up abruptly, emerald eyes meeting stormy grey ones. He watched the grey eyes blink, bewildered.

"Merlin, Potter, have you lost weight??" It was not a compliment.

"Wh-what??" Harry had known he had lost weight, but frankly, he didn't care. His mind was always in the clouds with his broom--which was in fact locked in the cupboard under the stairs--not on the fact that he hardly remembered to beg the Dursleys to feed him.

"I asked if you'd lost weight! You're so incompetent..."

Dudley grinned. He still didn't know what that word meant, but it couldn't be good, and now Harry was also 'incompetent.'

"I'm not!" Protested Harry, but he couldn't pull his arms out of Draco's stronger grasp. The Slytherin pulled up Harry's sleeve and turned his arm over in his hands. "Merlin, Potter, your arm's as thin as my owl's leg!"

Harry gulped as Draco grasped the bottom of the Gryffindor's shirt and yanked it up. Nearly every muscle in his body flinched or convulsed as the Slytherin's icy fingers brushed the skin stretched over Harry's ribs. Draco frowned and dropped the shirt as Harry gaped at him.

"This is worse than I was expecting, Potter,' he stated simply, frown still displayed across his features. "'Would have thought you'd know to take better care of yourself. I suppose I'll have to take you now..." He glanced Harry over again before continuing. "I'm sure Dumbledore doesn't want his golden-boy starved to death before first term even starts." He huffed and seemed a little reluctant, but quickly made up his mind. "Let's go."

It was only just then that Harry realized Draco's broom was resting against the garden bench, and he watched the other boy snatch it up. "Go?"

Draco sighed deeply and brushed a stray strand of hair from his forehead. Instead of trying to explain anything to the bewildered Gryffindor, though, he tightened his hold on Harry's wrist, which still rested in his grasp, and yanked him unceremoniously onto the broom behind him. Without any warning, he kicked off into the drizzle and Harry had to quickly throw his arms about Draco's waist to keep from falling off... A position he didn't like very much at all.

End Chapter the First

A/N: Yes, yes, I know... It's horrible, it sucks, blah blah... Review it anyways, ne? I'd really appreciate your opinion. Also, sorry to anyone who read it before under another name.. I kinda deleted it and had to put it back up again.. Result of a friendly feud.. Anywhos. Update reeaal soon, promise. And it will definately be longer than this short excuse for a chapter.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you so much for reviewing, it really makes me happy. As soon as I checked and saw there were some, I immediately starting typing again, thanks guys. California Smells Funny (neat name), thanks for pointing out the anonymous thingy. And I'm glad you liked how I went about it. And thanks to Tald, too. I have a pretty good idea where this is going, but nothing's set in stone yet. Any suggestions and criticisms are welcome.

**Veneficus Amicus**

By Nu Rho

That evening, roughly 20 minutes after Harry had been swept away, the Dursleys--mainly Vernon Dursley--could be heard ranting about things along the lines of "when that boy gets back--" and "--a piece of my mind!!" It had taken Dudley nearly ten minutes to come out of the shock of the blonde boy's sudden appearance, and of course, then fact that said blonde boy had snatched Harry onto a brrom and _flew away_. Leave it to Dudley to run to his father wailing about the "tall, powerful wizard" who had threatened to end the fat boy's life if he didn't "unhand the Potter boy" so he could take him to go "do lots of magic." Petunia had gasped at the use of the 'm-word.' Now, miles away and high above in the storming sky, safe for the time-being from Vernon's furious raging, sat a stunned Harry Potter, perched awkwardly on the back of his nemesis's broom.

"Uhm... Malfoy..." Harry tried, finally finding his voice after running through the evening's rather sudden events several time in his head. "What... What about all my things? I mean, will I need them or are you going to bring me back..?" Harry couldn't deny it felt odd asking Malfoy, of all people, for anything, even just a little information. The only time they ever spoke, it involved shouting, insulting, and often times dueling.

"Don't worry about your things," the blonde answered. If he was as uncomfortable on has his passenger, he did an excellent job of hiding it. "I'll make sure someone picks it up for you."

The raven-haired boy nodded, a little uncertainly. "Alright.. And uhm, why.. You..?" He didn't mean to sound rude, but he really couldn't stop himself from asking.

Droco snorted. "I wish it wasn't me, as well, Potter." He paused as they dodged a dark cloud. The Slytherin had been trying very hard not to pass directly through any clouds in a feeble attempt to remain dry, which was much harder that it sounds because they skt that night was basically one giant rain cloud. It also didn't help that the setting sun made the darkening sky so dim that it would have been hard to tell clouds from flocks of Dementors.

Wait a minute... Draco glared hard into the haze ahead of them. He felt Harry's arm around his waist tighten almost painfully and the torso behind him stiffened. Draco gulped quietly and narrowed his eyes, whispering over his shoulder, "Silence, Potter... And try not to take any deep breaths." With that, they descended into one of the darker clouds and were immediately soaked through. The Slytherin shallowed his breathing as much as he dared, careful not to inhale any of the hovering liquid around them. He couldn't hear the boy behind him at all. It didn't even sound like was breathing.

"Potter?" He inquired in hushed tones, but froze when he suddenly felt like the blood in his veins would freeze and crack. Glancing up, he saw the dark shadows right above them, and his jaw clenched involuntarily.

Draco felt the body behind him shudder violently, then the weight of the other boy suddenly vanished. Draco glances down in time to see an unconscious-looking Harry disappear into the dark fog below him. Next, he was aware of the several black forms shooting past him, after the fallen boy. "Harry!" Draco tilted his broom down sharply and soon found himself racing the Dementors to the forest belo, rain suddenly coming down in torrents. He could barely see anything, let alone where Harry had fallen.

Harry was vaguely aware of the fact that he was falling. It would have been a nice feeling had he not been soaked, the rush of air freezing his bones. Oh, wait. That icy feeling in his center might be because of the Dementors. Oh, yes, he could see them now. They were swooping down after him. He recalled how much he hated Dementors. Oh well, at least he's hit the ground before they actually reached him. That's a plus. Ah, and there's Draco. Hah. Silly Slytherin, trying to reach him before the Dementors did. Or rather, before the ground did. He tried to yell something towards Draco... Something alone the lines of "Thanks, but forget it, just tell Ron and Hermione I said 'hi'," but it only came out as a whisper. Or rather a hiss. How odd. Harry would have shrugged if he hadn't felt so numb. He usually only hissed in the company of snakes. His last thought was that Draco should leave before the Dementors realized Harry was dead and went after the Slytherin instead.

Draco's point of view on the situation was a bit different. Basically, he'd managed to pull ahead of a few Dementors, but there were still two ahead of him. He had finally spotted Harry again and noted his eyes were open and looking at him. He saw Harry's lips form some sort of words, but all he could hear was the thunderous wind as it whipped past his ears. He pushed his broom as far as it would go, and while the Dementors and himself were catching up quickly, Harry was also falling directly for the tall branches just below him. The Slytherin gritted his teeth and pulled out his wand, racking his brain for any spell that might be helpful now, but before he could even recall a suitable one, something large, dark, and very long swept into his view and dived into the maze of branches below. Draco hadn't even time enough to make out what it was. His eyes searched frantically for his lodt target, but Harry was simply gone. He dived into the trees along-side the Dementors, and swerved around and between the branches, loosing the dark creatures somewhere in the jagged tree-limbs. The Slytherin nearly flew straight into threes a couple of times and he felt his heart hit his heels at the scarce probability that Harry, or anyone, would survive such a freefall into this forest. He searched anyway. Even if Harry was only a lifeless body, Dumbledore wouldn't appreciate Draco leaving him here. He sighed and slowed a little, scanning his eyes over the ground below.

"Damn it, Potter, where the Hell are you?"

- - - - -

Harry winced against the expected sunlight seeping into his eyes, but there came none. Sure, it was morning, that much was obvious as the sun was overhead and towards the east, and from his position, sprawled out on his back, Harry could see how the light filtered through the web of branches above him. He realized that the sun still shown as brightly as ever, but the bare, grey branches did much for shade, lessening the intensity of the morning luster. The ground surrounding the youth smelled like the earth does after a good down-pour and he vaguely remembered something about Dementors and falling. Harry groaned and sat up, trying to remember the previous night more clearly. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, the Gryffindor glanced at his surroundings while subconsciously straightening his glasses. His gaze shifted back to the sky, barely visible through the nest of tangled branches as far as he could see in all directions. Wondering hoe he had gotten... wherever he was, Harry suddenly recalled Draco's presence and that led to his last memories at the Dursley's house at number four Privet Drive. Oh, yes... He remembered now. Only... why wasn't he dead? Surely, if the fall had not killed him, the Dementors would have. A silky voice emitting from somewhere to Harry's right pulled his out of his thoughts.

"Finally awake, I see. You've been sleeping nearly eleven hours, at least. Though, I suppose humans might actually sleep that long for all I know about them..."

Harry spun his head towards the voice and immediately regretted it. Pain shot through his skull as the headache set in. He winced slightly, eyelids determined to squeeze the paina way, but to no avail. Instead, he cautiously opened his eyes, doing his best to ignore the nagging ache residing behind his eyes. What he saw nearly made him jump out of his skin.

The young Gryffindor was instantly reminded of the basilisk from his second-year adventure and panic shot through his veins. Upon a second, longer glance, however, Harry realized that this creature looked nothing like the basilisk save for its snake-ness. The creature in front of him looked actually a bit more like a python with two twisted horns emitting gracefully from the back of it's narrow head. It was a deep grey-black color with yellow-orange stripes that Harry barely see unless the sun fell just the right way through the branches and reflected off the serpent's back. The curious eyes were bright, solid orange, vibrant and deep. There were no pupils, but the entire eyes seemed to get deep towards the middle, like a pool of liquid fire. The orange pools blinked at the Gryffindor, admittedly a bit unnerved by the boy's unceasing stare. Harry smiled when two flaps of thick, leathery skin on either side of the snake's body fluttered in an almost cute, curious manner and the creature's head tilted. Alright, Harry thought, not knowing what this creature was exactly, only that it wasn't quite a python. As far as size, the snake was quite large, its head about the size of a horse's and its long, sleek body visibly lithe and incredibly strong.

The snakes hissed something and Harry had to pull himself out of his observant reverie. "Sorry?" The hiss seeped easily from his lips and a chill ran down the boy's spine at the sound and vibration of his own voice. It had been a while since he spoke in Parstletounge and it was always a little odd to use it now.

The snake blinked again and the protrusions on either side of him lowered a little, finding a comfortable position, folded over his scales. He flicked his black, forked tongue towards Harry and blinked again. "I asked if you were alright." Harry noted that the hisses coming from this snake were deeper than his own, and they seemed to have a slight drawl to them, like an accent. Harry mused over the thought that different species of snake had different accents. When he noticed the slightly concerned expression the orange orbs held, he quickly nodded. "Oh, oh yes, sorry... I'm fine." He smiled to encourage his statement, even though now that the serpent mentioned it, Harry was feeling a little sore. He increasingly became aware of a few long bruises on his arms, but overall, he was fine.

Looking at the forest floor, littered with bramble and fallen twigs and branches, then up at the sky, bright spaces of blue between the dull, grey trees and the silhouettes of a few large birds. This forest looked very familiar but so different from any place he had ever been before, at the same time.

The serpent noticed that the boy, who's life he had saved the previous night, was taking in the forest slowly, trying to find a place for it in his mind. He knew that the young wizard had been somewhere quite the same as this place, but so very different in its own ways. He knew that the boy had actually been in parts of this forest, because he knew a lot of what this boy had done, and he knew who this boy was. Leathery wings fluttered again, and then disappeared into his back. If a snake could smirk, that's what this one was doing.

"Welcome to the Lost End of the Forbidden Forest, Harry Potter."

End Chapter the Second

A/N: Yaaay for spark snakes. They are one of my favorite creatures when it comes to the mythological. Hmm... Yes, anywhos, the next chapter will be up very soon and we'll be learning more about our friend the spark snake. Also, there will be fluff soon enough, it just bothers me a little when Harry and Draco go from "HATE!" to "I love you, kiss me!" in two paragraphs. So, don't be discouraged about that, it is on its way.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Greetings. I apologize this update took a bit longer than I expected. Lately, I've been quite busy and my grades are slipping. Regrettably, new chapters may end up taking about a week or a little more before I post them until I can pull those grades up. But hey, if I spontaneously have time to sit down and type, I will do just that. Also, I'll definitely post again tomorrow or the next day, just incase I have another busy week.

In other news! I just wanna say thanks to all you reviewers, I really appreciate it. (I've never had the patience with one story to sit and finish it out, but reviews keep me motivated!) So, I'm not gonna name everyone, I wanna get into the story. However, I just want to touch on Brenna8's question, which was, "why in the world would Harry trust Malfoy enough to go anywhere with him and not hex him on the spot?" Well, Harry's belongings are locked away, so his wand probably is too. But that answer is too simple for me likings, so let's assume it's not locked up with his other things. Right now, we've got Dudley--bully, muggle world--on one side, Draco--bully, wizarding world--on the other. We've established they're both bullies. Right! So! Now, we know summer is always hard on our Gryffindor, so I would imagine anyone from the wizarding world is a welcome reminder. (Whether or not Harry wants said reminder to stay is another issue.) Draco, at this point, has not only shown up, and quite unexpectedly at that, at Privet Drive, but is also physically stronger than Harry due to Harry's lack of sustenance, plus he dragged him off without and sort of warning. Also, Harry could assume that someone from the Order is near enough to do something if Draco were to try and hurt him. I probably should have thrown in more detail, but the first few chapters are never the most fun for me to write and I kinda just wanted to get through them.. Eheh.. Aaaanywhos... wonders if anyone even reads this babble Probably not, ah well, don really matter much. On to the story! (My apologies, again)

Oh, but before I forget... DISCLAIMER! Rawling's characters are despondently not mine. Plot and Manyara are. Thank you.

**Veneficus Amicus**

By Nu Rho

As the day progressed, streams of sunlight found their way around dull grey branches and even under the gloom of the monstrous trees, there was light enough for Harry to take in the details of this new atmosphere. The trees, which previously had appeared to all be the same grey, unwelcoming trees, were indeed different. Some Harry even recognized; birch, oak, redwood... Only, all of these had ovbiously had time to grow undisturbed, as they were all incredibly large and old. The young wizard had actually spotted a few younger trees, but even those seemed cast in an unearthly shadow of grey. Whatever the reason was, there was definatley something different about this forest than other forests, even other parts of this very same forest, if it was indeed what the serpent had claimed it was. Harry also noticed that there were other plants he recognized here, though most he did not. Some he was familiar with from school such as abyssinian shrivelfig from second year Herbology, a few mimbulus mimbletonia, which he remembered Neville once having, and he was even sure he had spotted a devil's snare. Once he started asking quiestions about some of the odd-looking plants, his new companion started getting into a lesson of sorts.

For the past few hours, Harry had been listening intently to the odd creature that had saved his life, as the serpent worked on pointing out dangerous things Harry should watch out for in this forest.

"There are more dangers than just the other creatures that reside here," The serpent had explained. Among other things, the young raven-haired wizard had learned quickly that the blood-red vines of the venomous tentacula plant would indeed try to grab him if he got too close, but tasted rather well if cooked properly in a stew of ginger root and rosewood bark, granted they were boiled enough to rid the vines of their poisons. Also, despite the uncanny resemblance with devil's snare, flitterbloom is a non-violent plant, and one can most easily tell the difference between the two by the difference in smell.

"Many creatures use their sense of smell for help in countless situations, foliage being only one of many. Learning to use you're nose more efficiently will be a skill of good use to you in the future, young wizard."

Harry nodded and felt like he should be taking notes, as if he was in class. The serpent was a very good teacher and kept the Gryffindor's attention easily. Somehow, even though Harry knew nothing of many of the plants mentioned by his new companion, he never felt quite as stupid as Snape made him feel. One thing they had not covered yet, though, was exactly what the serpent had meant by "the Lost End of the Forbidden Forest." Harry was quite curious, to say the least, but wasn't sure he should bring it up.

By the time dusk had reached into the tangled depths of the forest and weaved it's shadowed fingers around all the plants and rocks, Harry had learned more about the various plants of this dark forest than he ever had in any of his classes. The serpent taught him how many of these plants were used mostly in dark magic potions or just more advanced potions, as many of them had often dark, yet powerful attributes when used properly. That night, the snake decided to make supper of the venomous tentacula, to show his new student how it was done.

Harry watched in awed bewilderment as the serpent spread his wings a little and seemed to slightly sway back and forth in front of the spiked red vines, unblinking. Harry, at a safe distance, noted how the vines that had looked ready to strangle the serpent just a moment ago, fell into the swaying motion as well. Then the snake lowered his head and hissed towards Harry, summoning him over.

"They are subdued for now, break a few vines off and carry them a few feet away. Just be careful not to prick yourself."

Harry nodded and did as he was told, but the vines were heavy, thick, and nearly impossible to break off. He watched his companion tear through the plant with his saber-like fangs as if they were naught but brittle twigs. Frowning, the young wizard glanced around him and found a decent sized slate of stone, which he was able to use the edge of to cut through the vines. A few minutes of this passed before the plant shifted and started trying to move again. Glancing back at the serpent, Harry was a little surprised to see the snake had the vines he had already gathered floating in the air beside him. Harry quickly lifted his own vines, holding them carefully so as not to prick himself, and followed the serpent to a small cleared area near a looming hill of stone, a small opening visible near the base.

"My home," Explained the snake. Then he lowered his head between the two and a small fire burst into life, making Harry jump slightly. The serpent released a hissing chuckle. Just because I have no wand, does not mean I cannot perform magic, Veneficus." The orange orbs twinkled brightly. Harry's vines lifted from his arms and hovered over the fire, soon joined by the serpent's gathered vines and a cauldron of water appeared beneath them, which they promptly splashed into.

"I was actually wondering about that..." Harry began. "Uhm.. Sir.." he added respectfully.

The hissing laughter emitted again. "Please, Veneficus, you may call me Manyara." Amusement sang in his hiss. "I am not one of those professors of yours..." Manyara nodded towards some ginger roots to Harry's left and the wizard plucked them from the ground and added them to the cauldron while the snake added the bark. Bringing his gaze back up to meet Harry's, then serpent inquired, "You were wondering?"

"Yes.." Harry tried. "I was just curious.. Because my wand is home, you see.. And I'm not sure how to get there..."

"Ahh, yes.." Manyara nodded in understanding and sighed. "I am afraid I cannot aid you in the retrieval of your possessions... However, I can teach you a thing or two of wandless magic." He smirked as Harry's expression brightened. The water in the cauldron started to boil. "Be careful as to not breath in the steam, Veneficus. It is ridden with poisons."

Harry glanced at the steam rising from the cauldron and nodded. "How long until it is safe to eat?"

Manyara smirked. "Hungry?"

Harry nodded and smiled. "Starving."

"Well, not much longer... We must wait until the bark softens and the poisons are finished boiling out. Unless you like it spicy?"

"Hah, no thanks.." Harry replied with a chuckle. "I don't want to take the chance."

"Fair enough." The snake nodded his consent and continued to let the stew boil. "Chances can be worth the risk, at times, Amicus." He tilted his head at the young wizard in front of him. "It might be good to keep that stored in the back of your mind. It could come as fare guidance in the future."

- - - - -

Draco sat in Dumbledore's office, in a large comfortable chair opposite the old wizard, who was seated behind his cluttered desk. The Slytherin glanced guiltily at the obvious worry present in the Headmaster's face.

"Mr. Malfoy..." The Headmaster tried. "You're... quite sure...?"

Draco nodded, twisting his fingers in his lap, then replied almost angrily. "I looked, Professor. I could not find him." There was a pause and the younger wizard sighed inwardly. "Professor... I'm sorry.." He lowered his head.

"No, no, Mr. Malfoy," The Headmaster replied. "There is no need for apologies." He looked at the boy seated across from himself and tried to smile reassuringly. "Our young Harry a strong, determined boy, Draco. I have faith that he will not give up quite so easily." A little bit of the old twinkle shimmered behind his half-moon glasses. "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. You may go now."

The Slytherin nodded and stood, heading for the door but was stopped by the Headmaster's voice as his fingers reached the door knob.

"And Draco... " The wizard's voice seemed to have regained some of it's air. "Just incase it had entered you're mind... Do not go after him yourself. Stay here. I fear.. This is a serious, perhaps dangerous situation."

Without turning around, Draco nodded and left. He wouldn't go, why would Dumbledore even think that? Harry was fine and would show up tomorrow. Stupid Golden Boy always got himself out of these damned pickles of his, why wouldn't he get out of this one? Draco growled quietly to himself as he made his way down to the empty Slytherin common rooms. Just once, he'd like to see Potter fail. Just once, he wanted everyone to be disappointed with the Boy Who Lived, not worship him for defeating the odds. However... Draco paused. If Harry _didn't_ survive this time... Draco was to blame. And that sure wasn't going to look good just when he was trying to be recognized by Dumbledore and the Order as a wizard on their own side. If Harry didn't come back, he would have failed his first meaningful assignment, no matter how simple it had appeared to be before, and his chances with the Order would be ruined. He'd be left at the mercy of his father, and what would his deatheater father do with a son who had turned against the dark lord? Making an aggravated noise, Draco hurried down the steps to the dungeons and marched into the Slytherin commons. If Harry didn't return soon, he'd have to find a solution of his own after all.

- - - - -

Evening soon turned into night and the stars were visible through dark tangles of branches above. Harry was sitting cross-legged in the small clearing, head tilted back, taking in the vast pattern of black speckled with shimmering spots of gold above them. "It's so dark," He mused, and glanced over at the large serpent beside him in time to see his companion yawn. Harry smiled. "Tired?"

"Hmhm.. "Manyara chuckled and glanced back at the young wizard. "Quite. I am by nature nocturnal, as many creatures in the forest are. I'm afraid staying awake all day has worn me out."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Harry returned. After all, it was him being here that made the serpent stay awake.

"No, don't be sorry, Veneficus." Manyara smirked and let out another, smaller yawn. "You will be nocturnal soon enough, as well, if you stay here much longer."

Harry glanced a moment longer at the serpent, then tilted his head again towards the sky. "How long _am _I to stay here, Manyara?"

There was a pause from the snake, then Harry heard the quiet reply. "As long as you deem it wise, Amicus. As you may have noted, I am companionless, and I mind not your company."

The Gryffindor smiled and rubbed his arms lightly as a chill breeze found it's way through the branches. "Manyara, what are those words you keep using?" he questioned.

"Words?" The snake inquired.

"Yeah.. " Harry still glanced at the sky, having spotted a shooting star. "Veneficus."

"Ahh, Veneficus." Manyara smiled. "You are a wizard, that is simply what it means. I suppose it is more common among the creatures here than it is within your castle walls?"

"Yeah." Harry confirmed, having never heard the term before in school. "And what about the other one?" The young wizard glanced again at the serpent.

"Amicus." Manyara smiled, meeting Harry's gaze. "Are you not my friend?" His eyes twinkled again, and the mystery behind them reminded Harry much of Dumbledore's, though the serpent's seemed.. Darker somehow.

The Gryffindor returned the smile and nodded. "I am. Thank you, Manyara," He added sincerely.

Manyara smiled again and nodded, then stretched his wings. He noticed Harry gazing at them and chuckled. "Let's leave any more questions unto the morrow. There is plenty room enough for us both within in the cave, and I daresay we both need a rest." He smirked as it was Harry's turn to emit a yawn and with that, the large serpent slithered into the opening at the base of the rocks and disappeared into the darkness. Harry saw the flicker of a fire being lighted just inside and he made his way, crawling through the small opening, after his friend.

Inside, the cave was quite large, dagger-like shards of stalagmites decorating the monstrously high ceiling and uneven floor, illuminated by a bright fire hovering in the air beside the serpent. Standing up, Harry noted that the cave seemed to travel deeper into the rocky hill on a slight decline, but the light of the flame did not reach too much farther and he couldn't make out if there was a back of the cave in view. Manyara quickly made himself comfortable, coiled about a large stalagmite near the far left side of the cave and Harry followed suit, finding a heightened jut of rock on the right side of the cave that made for a bed of sorts. They both fell asleep soon enough and the small fire still hovering in the air eventually died out.

Harry slept pretty soundly, save waking a few times during the night with sore muscles and made a mental note to ask Manyara about a more suitable bed in the morning. His human body simply could not do with sleeping on this hard, uneven rock every night.

- - - - -

Elsewhere, the same night, a lone Slytherin lay awake, too worried to sleep. "Damn Potter and his trouble-prone self!"

End Chapter the Third

A/N: Yay, another chapter up and done. 'Hope I didn't rush through it too badly... Well, review if you like, if you don't like, if you're bored.. It's all good. Remember to look for the next chapter tomorrow, the next day, maybe even later tonight! Cheerio!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Whoot! I posted chapter 3, ate a clementine and a quick bowl of soup, then sat down and typed up this chapter! Aren't you so proud of me?? Onward, men!

**Veneficus Amicus**

By Nu Rho

Days had past since Harry had gone missing. Four days to be more exact. Four days past, and no sign of him what-so-ever. Four days past, and Draco was near the end of his rope. Dumbledore had people from the order searching high and low. Draco had been questioned as to the whereabouts of the Dementor attack, but he could hardly give them any coordinates. The Slytherin had even been taken out on the second day, but was unable to again find the same area where he had lost the golden boy, something that confused him very much.

"I don't get it!" He had complained. "We took a straight course, no detours! It had to have been somewhere directly between Hogwarts and the muggle house!"

No one could seem to find Harry, though. No one knew where to look. Silly wizards, though, didn't even realize what they were so desperately doingwas what the problem with their tactics was.

- - - - -

Over the past four days, Harry had accelerated little in the art of wandless magic. Without the wooden tool with which to focus his magic, he used what Manyara referred to as 'raw magic', or un-aided magic. It was much harder to focus and aim at one thing in particular--trying to get a single pebble to hover resulted in about ten pebbles and a few small shrubs hovering--and he had yet to master anything relatively difficult. He was, however, performing wandless magic. And that alone was something most wizards could not--or even attempted--to do.

After his morning exercise of magic--_wingardium leviosa_-ing a few light objects, _expelliarmus_-ing a stick from Manyara's grip a couple of times, and _Immobulus_-ing a few smaller day-critters (which Harry had discovered is a version of what Manyara had used on the venomous tentacula)--Harry sat down heavily on a rock outside Manyara's cave and watched the forest day-life lazily.

The two had talked quite a bit in the past few days and Harry had learned that his friend Manyara was what some people call a spark-snake, or winged serpent. Also referred to as a lindwurm, this winged serpent is quite large with a pattern of scales, strong as steel and flexible as thick leather. They are much like normal snakes as far as body shape, though some do have long horns emitting from the back of their heads. They are quick, strong, and impossibly agile, as Harry had noted first-hand when Manyara would hunt. Also, they--of course--hand wings. Manyara's were leathery and triple-jointed like most dragon wings, though some spark snakes had feathered wings. As spark snake hides were worth a fortune in gold in the past--and still are, except that nearly all the people who were brave, or stupid, enough to try and hunt them had been killed doing so--they were not what one would call common in the least, and on top of that, usually preferred seclusion, especially from humans. Spark snake hides were worth even more if killed while they're wings were out, because once dead, the wings can't be opened by any sort of magic spell or potion yet discovered. The wings are obviously more delicate than the rest of the snake's body, so over time, the snakes had developed two score-like scars in they're backs--an easy way to tell the difference between a spark snake and other large magical wingless-snakes (which are not worth as much)--that the wings can disappear into. Also, spark snakes are what most refer to as elemental and are quite powerful in their element. Harry hadn't asked which element Manyara was, but it was a safe assumption he was either fire or shadow, judging by his colors. They were also quite intelligent and incredibly loyal, if their trust is earned.

As far as life here for Harry, the past four days had been more interesting than anything else he'd yet done this summer. As Manyara had said, Harry was indeed already shifting to the nocturnal lifestyle. His 'morning' now consisted of roughly the time between 12 noon and 3 o'clock. The past few days, he and Manyara had been staying up a little later at night, and waking up a little later in the day. It was also true, Harry noted, that the forest seemed much more awake at night. His eyes had also become used to the shadowed environment of the forest floor, but glancing up at the sky through the twisted branches, he did sometimes miss an open sky and large patches of warm sunlight residing on the open field of grass around Hogwarts. He did miss the lake and the castle itself. Thinking back to all the times things got stressed--homework, exams, Draco's taunting--he didn't really miss it that much after all, but... Absence does make the heart grow fonder.

He wondered vaguely if people were missing him back at Hogwarts. School would start again soon.. Just a little over a week now. Would Dumbledore even tell the other students the truth? He laughed quietly to himself. No, it doesn't matter if he does or not. Hermione would figure it out, anyway. His smile was soon replaced by a frown with the presence of a new thought. Would she care enough to figure it out? Would Ron care enough? Harry's missing, big surprise. Some people would think he was killed by Voldemort. Others would accuse him of running from his fate. But maybe.. If things went in his own favor for once.. Harry would be presumed dead. Then, he could start a new life here. Maybe leave the forest eventually, but here he had a friend and a purpose other than to be everyone's Golden Boy. Here, the rules were kill or be killed, the same as for everything else that lived in this forest. No Azkaban, no Dumbledore, no muggles, no wizards. Here, he didn't have to be special, and he wasn't. And he liked that.

Manyara watched the boy think from just inside the cave. He had told his friend he would just be sleeping for a little longer, but the deep-rooted thought reflecting from the young wizard's face made him too curious to sleep. He didn't want to pry into Harry's private thoughts, though. Besides, he already had a pretty good idea as to what the boy was pondering over. But his friend just looked so troubled...

"Good morning, Amicus." The snaked yawned through his greeting as he slithered out of the cave and over to his friend. "Something on your mind?" he asked softly.

Harry continued to stare ahead and when he answered, he sounded far away. "No, not really..."

Manyara smiled to himself and gave Harry an even glare. "What is it you miss most, Amicus?" He pressed.

Harry paused and lifted his gaze towards the sky. "I miss flying," he stated honestly, then nodded and looked towards the serpent. "I really miss flying."

_Well,_ Manyara thought. _We'll have to see what we can do about that_...

- - - - -

Draco was a smart wizard. He was top or nearly top in all of his classes, but for the life of him, he could not understand how Harry--and the entire Grey Forest, as he had nick-named it--had simply vanished. Nothing, nowhere! It was simply lost.

Pacing in the common room, in front of the fire, Draco pondered his choices. He could, (1) Let Dumbledore's little Order keep looking and failing, (2) Go against Dumbledore's instructions and leave on his own to try and find Harry, (3) completely give up and hope his father doesn't have him killed, or (4) Wait for the right help to arrive. Well, forget the third idea, no Malfoy goes out without a fight. And there was no way he could leave this in the hands of Dumbledore's lackeys, but by himself, he honestly doubted he would succeed (even though he would never admit it out loud). And right, he didn't even know where was going with this last idea... What help? Who in the world could do this better than he could? Who could--There was a pause in his pacing as Draco stopped and stared into the fire. Never, under any other circumstances, would he have even considered this, but... Hell, he needed help. Magic was obviously involved in this disapearance and there was only one person he knew who could appropriately be considered a living magic-textbook.

So, his plan not playable for another 10 days, our favorite Slytherin sat back in a black leather chair by the fire and tried to patiently wait out the arrival of the students.

- - - - -

The Burrow was always a bit hectic, but just two hours before the kids would be returning to Hogwarts was a hell house. Hermione was the only one that seemed to be keeping any sort of order.

"Honestly, Ron, we're going to be late!" She shouted, rapping her knuckles on the bathroom door.

"Well, it's not _my_ fault someone woke me up late!" He retorted back at her.

"Now you're blaming this on me??" Her voice drastically rose from stern to angry. "Well, it's not _my_ fault that you sleep right through your own alarm clock! I'm not your babysitter, Ron!"

"You know what?? Just.. Grah!" The door flew open, making Hermione jump a little. Ron was buttoning up his shirt while trying to pull on his socks at the same time. "I'm out, see?? I'm out! Let's go! Geez! ...Damn buttons!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and huffed. "Goodness, Ron, you're hopeless!" She grabbed her friend by the collar of his shirt and dragged him down the stairs, promptly pushing him into a seat at the kitchen table. "Just get you're shoes on!" She ordered, shoving a pair of shoes into his hands.

"Alright, fine!" He answered, pulling a foot up onto the seat and yanking on one of the shoes, while Hermione nimbly buttoned up his shirt.

"Here." The young witch handed Ron a dark blue sweater, which he obligingly pulled over his head just as his mother ushered a stumbling Ginny into the room.

"Alright, everyone in the car!" Mrs. Weasley yelled. "Arthur, where are you?!"

Arthur's muffled voice answered from the upstairs and Mrs. Weasly rolled her eyes. "Hurry, up, we're leaving without you if you're not down here in two minutes!!"

Roughly ten minutes later, once everyone and everything was in the car and everyone was sure they weren't leaving anything behind, the Weasley car drove off for King's Cross Station.

- - - - -

_Finally, _thought Draco as the train pulled into the station at Hogwarts. He waited impatiently for the train to come to a stop, arms crossed over his chest. He was looking a bit disheveled today, his jaw-length hair falling untidily into his face, one side tucked hastily behind his ear. He really hadn't done much this morning, barely remembering to throw on some clean clothes and brush his teeth. The past ten days had dragged on long enough, and he was eager to carry on with his plan. He was sure the mudblood would help him once she knew the details.

Hermione and Ron joined the crowd clambering off the train and tried to make for the boat, but were stopped by an irritable looking Draco.

"Oh, Draco!" Hermione exclaimed. "Good, is Harry here?? Neither of you were on the train and we were worried!"

"About Harry, of course," Ron felt compelled to add. "I was thrilled when _you_ weren't on the train."

Draco glared heavily at Ron for a moment, then turned to Hermione, ignoring the bustling of students around them. "You need to come with me."

Hermione blink at him, then raised an eyebrow. "Sorry?"

The Slytherin glanced around a little nervously and leaned down, muttering more quietly. "It's got to do with Harry, you need to come with me."

Ron had obviously heard despite Draco's hushed tone and interrupted. "Ah ha! So it's your fault Harry wasn't on the train! I should have known!" Finding Draco glaring at him again, Ron just continued on with his mini-rant, glad to be making the Slytherin angry. "Besides, we can't miss the fea--"

"Shut up, Weasley!" Draco spat out, narrowing his eyes heatedly. Quickly pulling out his wand, he then hissed, "_Silencio!_" and grinned approvingly at Ron's silent protests. "I didn't ask you to come anyway, just Granger. All _you'd_ do is get in the way and Potter would surely die."

This caught Hermione's attention and she forgot to yell at Draco for _silencio_-ing Ron. "Die? Is Harry alright?"

Draco paused and lowered his gaze back to the shorter girl before him. Deciding to answer honestly, he mumbled quietly, "I'm not sure, actually..." He motioned to the castle and raised his eyebrows in question. Hermione paused, but gave him a nodded consent and followed after him, soon also trailed by a babbling Ron, yelling silently, face hastily turning red.

In the hectic-ness of the rush of students filling disorderly from the train and fighting over boats, no one noticed the three students hurrying off around the lake. Or, at least _almost_ no one noticed them.

End Chapter the Fourth

A/N: Yay, all done with this one. I feel like I kinda rushed through it, though, so many apologies if there is lack of detail. Thank you, California Smells Funny. I really do love nice reviews like yours. ::grovels:: Thank you for reading my babble! It's good to know someone does. : )

Btw, Me and my friend have started another fic, a bit more humorous than this one but also not very serious, so check it out maybe if you have the time. It's called **Hogwarts: A Tragedy**.

Well, I know this chapter was a bit of a bore, but it's a stepping stone towards the action, I swear. Hopefully see you in the next update, which shouldn't be too far from now. Cheerio!


	5. Chapter 5

**Veneficus Amicus**

By Nu Rho

Bottomless orange eyes stared ahead, taking in the bustle of frenzied humans. From the safety of the trees, the serpent could evenly take in all that happened on the opposite side of the silvery lake. The students were of no great concern to him personally, but he studied them anyway, as he wondered what it was one would miss from such a place. The boy hadn't said he missed this place of human dwelling, hadn't said he wished to return, hadn't brought it up at all. That's what had brought the snake here tonight while all the boy knew was that his friend's wings needed a good stretch. Harry's complete lack of mention of this place he had once called home was what brought Manyara to the conclusion that he missed it dearly.

And that's why the serpent was here. Watching the wizards and witches sort themselves into boats and sail slowly over the glistening lake towards their school. Manyara had never had a companion. He wasn't even sure why he had felt compelled to save the falling boy that night, but he was glad he had. Now, knowing that he had a friend in this young boy, a comrade, he didn't want to see him aching over the loss of something so trifling as this silly school for wizards. Wizards who could not even perform raw magic. Wizards who knew little of life other than the cold specter war, having grown in an age of fear and darkness ever hovering over their shoulders and breathing down their necks. Amicus--as had become a second name for the boy over the time since he had fallen from the sky--did not need this world of petty conflict and flaw. He did not deserve to be anyone's pawn in this tarnished game of fault, and Manyara would not leave him to it.

Growing angered over such oppressing thoughts, the serpent had decided to dwell here no longer, when something caught his attention and he turned back towards the lake, craning his neck out over the glassy surface for a better view. He recognized that boy. It was another wizard, his Amicus's friend from the night the serpent had saved the young Gryffindor from the impending branches of his forest home.

He watched the boy run around the lake, unnoticed by the others save two, who trailed behind him. Manyara was immediately suspicious. Harry was a brilliant young man, and there was no reason why the serpent should not be wary of any rescue attempts, especially because he supposed the elder wizard Dumbledore would want him back. He had heard word in the forest that the grey trees had been searched for and that the searchers were seeking help wherever they could, but the creatures of the grey forest had raised their noses and laughed menacingly. Even those who knew that the Potter boy was indeed residing under their trees, he had caused no harm, only living by the rules of the forest. He hunted when he needed food, he drank when his throat parched, and he slept when his body tired. The creatures had no reason to help the humans in their futile hunt for the boy.

Manyara found himself narrowing his eyes at the old headmaster hatefully, and shook his head, sighing. He was becoming far too possessive of the boy as well as paranoid, he knew, but that man had caused his friend too many hardships.

Deciding it about time he took his leave, the snake finally turned and lifted into the sky, gracefully and silently fading into the distance. A moment passed before a satisfied smirk rose to his eyes as he knew that he did not have to worry about finding his forest home as the wizards did. No, the forest was his blood home, he had made it so many years ago when he was still a young snake, hardly six feet long and tired after only a mile's flight. How weak he had been. But what a magnificent animal he was now, that was not to be denied.

He sighed as he saw the shaded trees ahead and the ethereal tendrils of magic that clung to the branches and weaved deftly around every rock, plant, and fissure of bark. Normal human eyes could not see such magic, but to him it was a welcome sight and a familiar feeling. Soon enough he would be home with his friend and could forget about his worries because all that really matters is that life be lived and lived well.

- - - - -

"Granger, honestly! Come on, we don't have all night!"

The voice reached her, but she only half heard what the blonde boy was yelling to her. Hermione was too busy narrowing her eyes at a distant shape. She had thought she saw something when they were first getting off the train, but had quickly forgotten about it at the mention of Harry. Now, however, she was positive. There had definitely been something large on the far side of the lake, and now it was in the sky.

She squinted her eyes farther, willing her sight to reach out and make out a more specific shape, but from this distance, in this darkness, it was useless. All she knew was that there had been something there, and now it had gone.

"Granger!!" She heard the irritated voice again and blinked, moving slowly towards the source of the sound without taking her eyes off the horizon.

"I'm coming, already..." Turning finally, Hermione hurried off after Draco, who ushered her and Ron into the castle in front of him, glancing just once, curiously, over his shoulder to where his accomplice-to-be had been staring a moment before. Not seeing anything, he exhaled quietly with narrowed eyes, and pulled the doors closed behind him before turning toward the others to begin explaining himself.

- - - - -

Harry took a deep breath of the cool night air. He did not smell the saccharine scents of Hermione's vanilla candles burning in the common room, tickling his nostrils, or the familiar hint of the soft leather couches by a crackling fire after a rough day of Quidditch. Closing his eyes, he could not feel the rough texture of his favorite Weasley-jumper, could hardly even imagine it there on his skin with the present chill night air of the forest. He could only imagine the warm, welcoming ambiance of the room where he slept in the bed beside his best friend's, curled up in the crimson sheets where he would some nights lie awake in the comforting folds of the fabric. Could only imagine the silken feel of his father's invisibility cloak, memories of which seemed so far away. He remembered sneaking out with his two best friends, midnight strolls through the sleeping castle, evading the perpetually menacing Mr. Filch and his ever ominous cat Mrs. Norris (this brought a brief smile to his otherwise saddened face), fooling his nemesis Draco in the snow outside the Shrieking Shack...

He sighed quietly and stared languidly ahead. He almost wished he could apologize to his old enemy. Apologize for what? For sticking up for his friends? For sticking up for himself? No. He wished he could explain to the other boy how wrong they all had been. Fighting all these years. Where was the point in it all? What were they ever getting at? It was such a waste of time. And a perfectly good waste of effort that could have been put into trying to create a friendship. If not, then at least an alliance, peace, and understanding. It was all too late for that now. Harry doubted if he'd ever see any of those people ever again. They were all a part of his past, a part of another life, just as much as his fading reminiscences of a happy day with a couple of carefree comrades. Now it was just himself and Manyara. And as wonderful as that was, he feared he would miss his past life; his impossible-to-return-to past life, now obscured forever by war and darkness.

Taking another deep breath, he noted what he _could_ smell. His nose caught the metallic scent of the warm blood spilled over his hands, making his fingers unpleasantly sticky. The deer carcass limp in his hands as he cut away at the animal's flesh would have disgusted him in the past, it would have made him feel like a killer, but living in the woods gave a being certain rights, and living here for already over a week gave a being certain tolerance to otherwise inhumane actions. Searching past the scent of death, Harry picked up the pleasant aroma of a small fire, crackling over collapsing charcoal. Manyara had taught him to use his wandless magic to create one of the hovering balls of fire that would follow him around until it finally burned out, but Harry liked the smell of burning wood. It reminded him of winter at Hogwarts, and brought back the restful, alluring sensation of the Yule holidays and biting snow followed by warm hot cocoa or butterbeer shared with his housemates.

He sniffed quietly and his eyes blurred despite the presence of his glasses. No, he didn't miss his old home. Not one bit.

- - - - -

"YOU WHAT?!"

Draco sighed. Apparently his little spell on Ron had worn off. "Ron, plea--"

"YOU _DROPPED_ HIM??"

"Ron, _quiet_!" Hermione tried, even though Draco could tell from her expression, that she was furious as well. Shifting her gaze back to the Slytherin, Hermione continued. "So where is he? If this happened nearly fifteen days ago, then why are you telling us now? Don't tell me you didn't find him!"

Draco was running short on patience with the two of them accusing him and now Hermione trying to be stern with him. "Well, it's not like I did it on purpose... Loosing him will ruin my chances with the Order."

"Oh, like you _really_ wanna join the order..." Ron accused, glancing over Draco distastefully.

"Ron, _please_," Hermione insisted again. She sighed heavily and crossed her arms, glaring up at the taller blonde. "Alright, Draco, what do you want us to do?" She lifted an impatient eyebrow.

The Slytherin shook his head, correcting her. "Not 'us', _you_. I don't want the weasel to do anything. He'd botch it all up." He narrowed his eyes at the steaming red-head and wrinkled his nose sordidly.

Hermione rolled her eyes and spoke up before Ron could start shouting again. "Alright, then, what do you want _me_ to do?"

Draco just knitted his brow, shook his head, and shrugged. "I don't know, help? You're always on about how much you know." He paused when both her eyebrows went up and she pursed her lips disapprovingly. "Well? What do you know?"

Hermione rolled her eyes again in her 'you boys are so ignorant' fashion--which the Slytherin didn't appreciate very much at all--and glanced around the hall as if she could find an answer in the stone walls. "Well, you say you lost him over a forest, right? Well, the only forest arou--"

"But we've already been over the route Potter and I were on, and we didn--"

The young witch shot up a hand in Draco's face, making him lean back quickly to avoid getting swatted in the nose. "Let me finish," she stated sternly. "The only forest around is the Forbidden Forest. I read something somewhere... Oh, what was it??" She paused, chewing on her lower lip.

Draco huffed and crossed his arms. "Well, this is a great help."

He was silently reprimanded with a sharp glare from Hermione. "We should walk to the forest and see what we can find there," she concluded with a nod.

"The forest?? But I--"

"Shut up, we're going to the forest." With that, Hermione grabbed both boys by the collars of their shirts and dragged them back outside. Draco looked disgusted and appalled, voicing this as he was dragged across the property, but Ron looked pretty used to it, and just grinned at Draco's protesting.

- - - - -

Manyara landed silently nearby, but despite the lack of even the rustling of leaves, Harry knew he was back. He had gotten used to the presence of the snake, and somehow knew when he wasn't alone anymore. He finally heard his friend as he slithered gracefully over to him. Harry was just finishing pulling off the skin of the deer and he let the serpent take the meat and begin to cook it, enlarging his mediocre fire.

"You got a lot done quickly. You are improving, Amicus," Manyara stated. It was a simple compliment, and Harry appreciatedit because they were not given too often. One of the beauties of their friendship was the honesty between them, and Harry knew that a compliment, even a simple one as such, was a compliment his companion meant.

He smiled, glancing at his friend. "Thanks, Yara."

The serpent nodded with a returned smile and went on to soak the venison in a rough cauldron with some herbs the two had set aside earlier that evening.

They ate in near-silence that night, each with too much on their mind to try and keep up a conversation. As long as Harry wore that distant look in his eyes, Manyara could not bring himself to act unconcerned and pretend like his friend could simply drop his past life completely and remain here in the forest. The serpent didn't want to give the young wizard up, but he would rather Harry be happy.

He knew. He would try. Harry had mentioned flying and Manyara had put the thought out of his head until now, other thoughts seeming more important at the time. But now, he would try to make Harry smile and he would try to make Harry want to stay. He couldn't help thinking that the wizard would make a wonderful spark snake and the thought brought a brief smile to his narrow features. It would be better, once they could fly together. All the boy needed was time and a little more experience and explorationwithin the forest, just so he knew that he was indeed welcome to stay, and that he did have a place here.

The next few hours the two spent scrubbing the deer pelt to add to Harry's collection in the cave. When the Gryffindor had mentioned his inability to sleep on the coarse, uneven stone flooring of their home, Manyara had suggested the furs as a bed. "Right good way to put them to use rather than waste them," he had mused, and since then, they had cleaned and saved the coats of the various animals they ate, and thrown them into Harry's sleeping corner, making for an impossibly warm, cozy bed. Harry had plenty enough by now, a full six well-sized pelts gathered over the past fourteen nights. This seventh, Harry insisted, was for Manyara.

"Listen, I know you don't need it, but you're getting it anyway! It's better, I promise. And if you really don't like them, then you can go back to your rocks, okay?" Harry lifted his eyebrows with a grin, trying to persuade the serpent to keep some pelts for himself.

The serpent sighed and lowered his head, gazing up at his friend as he crossed his arms. "Alright, I'll give the damn furs a try," he replied with a smirk. "But if I'm coughing up fur balls in the morning, it's your fault."

Harry scoffed playfully and nodded. "Alright."

"And then we cut them up and make you some winter clothing," Manyara added, his brotherly concern for the young wizard surfacing again. "It'll be getting cold again soon and we can't have you freezing to death." The fire in his eyes flickered humorously and for the time being, their troubles were forgotten.

They finished cleaning the pelt, then carried it into the cave and talked a little about what the following evening would bring before they drifted off to sleep, both curled up comfortably on their beds of fur.

Manyara's last conscious thought was that tomorrow evening would indeed be eventful, and he hoped that what he had in store for his friend would make the boy happy.

End Chapter the Fifth

A/N: Another chapter done! ::yawn:: Time for sleep, it's way past my bed time. XP btw, California Smells Funny, I did not make up spark snakes, though I do wish I had, they're a nifty species. Actually, I _love_ snakes, and am completely obsessed with wings (and tails, but that's beside the point... and soymilk which is _completely_ beside the point). Anywhos, I was curious if there was such a creature already in 'existence' so I searched in some creature encyclopedias, and sure enough, Spark Snake was in there, so. There we go. Till next time! Cheerio!


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